


Brown Jenkins

by Denyce



Category: Salem (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 19:19:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9137770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Denyce/pseuds/Denyce
Summary: A ficlet (un'beta'd) of Anne coming into her powers and meeting her familiar, Brown Jenkins.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired and based off of this prompt from Comment_fic on LJ: any supernatural/horror-based fandom, author's choice, I'm friends with the monster that's under my bed  
> Unfortunately I didn’t copy/paste the date or the name of the prompter – sorry! Still inspired I continued on. Please note, that although most is canon based, I do realize I fudged a bit with Brown Jenkins on screen entrance as I don’t have the episode to rewatch and refresh my memory. The dialog at the end, bits of it were lifted/borrowed from the Salem wiki site- if true quotes then they were borrowed from the shows writers and I take no credit for that.
> 
> I’m also sad to discover the show has been cancelled. I do plan to get the dvds, but I don’t know if I’ll continue to write in this dark/rare little fandom. If I do, it might be a crossover with Supernatural or Teen Wolf as I have bunnies for both. However if you happen to read this and enjoy it, please lmk as it'd be a nice to know there's a reader or two out there interested in reading more... 
> 
> Otherwise I’ll just have to see where my muse takes me =)

Anne lay in bed wondering how she was going navigate the next few days never mind the coming weeks and months now that everything has changed. By her own hand, as Mary Sibley reminded her, she was alone, an unprotected single woman in a Puritan town. 

Just a few days ago, at her father’s hand she was but a prisoner. Trapped with both parents within a room father to her mortification had magically sealed. Somehow it had felt familiar. To her shock, it turns out her father had brought her there regularly as a child. As she looked around the room, it whispered of a time she didn’t remember – joy, curiosity, fun, although whispered memories pushed forward to be heard somehow it was all blocked within her mind. The missing memories frightened her, and of what it all meant.

The more she reached out for the memory the more she touched a blackness void within her mind. Its reach stifled her in ways she didn’t and couldn’t comprehend – worse she had reacted like any wild animal tethered or caught and held in a cage. Father had said he had blocked her memories for her own protection because she, like him was a witch. Even as he said it she fought over the idea of such heresy. Despite remembering her friend, Bridget, something deep within her burst forward eager to embrace the claim. Suddenly it was an internal clash that warred within her; a war she quickly lost. 

Shackled within the confines of the room she stood at an abyss, fighting to be free. 

Her demands to be released fell on deaf ears. Seeded in blind fury she lashed out. It was that defining moment when a power ripped through her body filling every nuance of her being that Anne tipped her over an edge she hadn’t known existed. Without forethought or moving an inch from where she stood, Anne mentally attacked, killing both of her parents. 

Drawing their blood wrought her freedom from the prison her father had created. With their deaths the power receded. In its wake, it brought nothing but woes as she stared at her beloved parents – dead at her hands. Devoid of sentiment, she slumped against the wall to stare at the carnage she wrought. Still within her soul, her body rejoiced basking in the power within her veins.

Hours later, guilt ridden and shamed, Anne left the room needing to wash away their blood. Once the tub was full, she stripped and entered the tub. Emotions heightened as she tried to wash off their blood that had dried on her face and body. Images teased her and tortured her heart, one after another. Each image was crisp and sharp, exposing the true cruelty of everything she had done.  
Seeing the razor, she grabbed it, digging its edge across her wrist until she called out in pain as blood bubbled forward in spurts. Seeing the blood turn the water red, she sighed satisfied she’d join her parents.

Alone ready to die for what she did Anne allow herself to sink under the waters depth. 

Suddenly she opened her eyes, power sparked within her body and somehow mended her skin as easily she would have put needle to thread and sewn a hem. Gasping for air she raised out from under the water only to hear then see Mary Sibley standing there.

*~*

Hours later, Anne languished in doubt after the true discovery that Mary Sibley was one of them, the grand witch in Salem. The one Cotton blamed for all of Salem’s problems and was searching to destroy. Even now if she focuses, she can sense Mary Sibley’s power. It calls out and lures her in. Shamelessly she wants more – power and knowledge to answers, that lay just out of her reach, only if she’d accept Mary Sibley’s advice and learn under her hand.

*~*

After watching Mary Sibley, knowing the woman’s true power, Anne swallows down her fear and plunges forward following the woman’s instructions to draw blood and write with it within the book of shadows. 

Abruptly after applying blood to page, she hears the scurry of tiny feet scrambling under her bed. Rolling to side, Anne sees a small brown mouse run out from under her bed toward a plate she left near the fireplace. Quickly she pops out of bed to capture the small mouse before he could escape and hide within the walls. Lifting him up, she gently states, “No need to fear me, little one.”

Picking up the plate she brought it over to the bed and set it down, just as she set the small mouse down beside it, offering him the left over crumbs. 

“What an adorable curious little brown thing you are.” Anne cooed to the small creature, a finger petting down its soft fur. It squirmed in her hand and moved to nibble at her palm. Anne giggled, “Oh no, don't eat me you silly little thing. Here you go.” She picked him up only to put him down near the plate, offering him bits of cheese.” Feeling a measure of security the mouse happily took the cheese. “See there you go, eat your fill. Mr. Jenkins, I will call you, Brown Jenkins.” 

The power within her ignited and sparked, inducing Anne to smile at her new friend. Suddenly her heart lifted with a newfound knowledge that from this moment on until her true death because of Brown Jenkins she would never again be alone in the world.

Fin~


End file.
